Christmas with the Germanics
by Momobeil
Summary: Bavaria, Prussia and Austria have a history of violence on and around Christmas. However, when little Ludwig came into the picture, the three agreed to keep their past secret from him. But can they take holding it in much longer? Smut. (Bavaria x Austria). Violence.
1. Christmas, 2013

Ludwig stood on the staircase, looking down into the living room at a rather tall man, sitting in the floor in front of the fireplace. He'd never seen the Bavarian go to bed on Christmas eve, and wondered why for centuries that he always sat there in the living room as the others all went to rest until morning. This year, however, he was going to find out what it was. Why did Heinrich always stay up so late? What does he always do?

The red-blond haired man simply stared into the dying fire, but not seeing the low, still light. It had been several hours since the fire had been lit, and at least one or two since the flames went down enough to hardly be called a fire anymore. It was a bit of smolders, if anything but now. The man, the oldest of the three German brothers, was slowly running his fingers over the face of a silver pocketwatch attatched to a chain around his neck. The watch he usually kept hidden, tucked beneath his shirt. The one with an Austrian crest on the lid.

Ludwig, of course, could not see the details of the watch from his place on the stairs, only that a small, glinting object in his big brother's, if Bavaria even considered them brothers anymore, hand. The muscular blond carefully began making his way down the stairs, soliciting a light squeak on the third step from the bottom.

Heinrich's trance was instantly broken, violet eyes immediately locked on the German's figgur, filled with raw emotion that Ludwig simply could not dechiper. Sadness? Anger? Happiness? He'd never been one for reading emotions, and his big brother, having spent so much of his time in Austria's house, had learned to conceal most if not all of his. With a blink, the light was gone, and his face stoic. He stood up slowly and spoke in a calm, clear voice. "I did not expect to see you up so early, Herr Beilschmidt."

Always so formal, this Bavarian. It was like having a constant guest in the house, despite him being the one who truly paid for everything. "Heinz, you don't… Why were you up so late? It's three in the morning."

"Don't." He said in a low voice, a warning tone quite evident. "My name is not Heinz."

"Your name is Heinz Beilschmidt-!"

"Lies!" He interrupted. "My name is Heinrich Holbein." He stated coolly, slipping the pocketwatch back under his nightshirt, turning around and began walking towards the kitchen.

A hand caught Bavaria's shoulder and pulled him back. "Fine. Heinrich. I ask again… Why are you up so la…" He trailed off, stunned by the intense glare he received from the other. Heinrich jerked his shoulder out of Ludwig's hold and went for the kitchen again, not caring what the blond wanted to ask.

As soon as he made it into the kitchen, Heinrich sat down heavily into a chair at the table, placed his elbows on the wooden surface and laced his fingers into his hair. He gave a soft growl as the blue eyed man followed into the room a few moments later and sat down across from him. "I hate Christmas…"

The confession struck a chord with Germany, who merely leaned back in his chair, pondering the three words for several minutes before he managed to send a quite inquiry: "…why?"


	2. Christmas, 1002

Then, a child. The two of them, actually. Little Gilbert and Heinz Beilschmidt. One could easily venture to say that the two were even good friends. Germania's favourite grandsons, even. The blond and the albino were almost inseparable. The Teutonic Order, then perhaps seven or eight in appearance age, while Bavaria was around ten.

The children were at this time building a birdhouse and arguing over wether it should be painted the cool, sophisticated blue and white of Bavaria's flag, or the super awesome black and white of Teuton's flag. Heinz, being the older of the two, naturally had the final say.

"What about white with a black roof and blue accents, then?" He offered as a compromise. The shorter albino simply grinned and nodded, clinging to his brother's back like a koala and watched him paint the house.

Eventually, the hose was finished and the Bavarian stood to place it on the mantle piece above the fireplace to dry, the Teuton still clinging on his back. "Hey… Heinz?" Gilbert asked quietly.

"Ja, Gilbo?" He replied, just as softly.

"You're my favourite bruder."

"Wirklich? What about Hesse? Or Brandenburg…?"

"Nichts. Ich liebe dich, Heinz…"

"Wow... Ich.. ich auch, Gilbo." He smiled warmly, pulling his younger brother around to embrace him.

"You'll never leave me, right?" Ruby eyes were wide with innocence,

"Niemals. Of course not. I'll be your big brother forever."

What lies.


	3. Christmas, 1145

Heinrich was sitting in a recliner, about thirteen at this point, while Gilbert sat in the floor playing with a tiny blue-eyed, blond-hair child.

"Gil, I think he'll be needing a nap soon, ja?"

The albino looked up, his attention finally torn from the groggily laughing little boy. "Eh? Oh… I guess… But I wanna keep playing!"

Hein rich nodded and sighed. "I'll be in the kitchen, okay? Take him to his room. I need to talk to you…"

"What about?"

"You'll see."

Heinrich had been standing in the kitchen, waiting patiently for his little brother to come back after putting Ludwig to sleep. He took a seat at the kitchen table and motioned for Gilbert to come over to him. The albino blinked, finding Heinz's lack of words not only in that moment, but for most of the day, as well as the previous week to be rather unnerving.

"Heeeeeeinz! Was ist los? You are being all weird."

The Bavarian nodded and bit his lip. "I've been talking to Rod-"

"Roderich? That kid from Celt's place?" Gilbert interrupted.

"Don't' interrupt like that. It's rude. But ja, Roderich."

"What are you doing talking with him? He's an unawesome idiot."

"My people and his get along well. They've been trading and sharing cultures. We happen to be extremely similar…"

"So? You're a hundred times better than he is! You're awesome!"

"Ach. Gilbo, we've become allies-"

"NOOOO! Nein nein nein nein! You can't be his ally! You're MY ally! You're my bruder! Mein Burder Favorit!" The Albino was practically flailing, ruby eyes wide, refusing to believe that the Bavarian would ever be friends with such a weirdo!

"Gilbert, I can have more than just my brothers as allies, you know… Politics happen more than just within a family, you know…" He explained calmly, stroking the Teuton's hair, trying to calm him down. "I'll always be your brother, no matter who my friends are. You'll always be my favourite."

"Heeeeeinz! You talk like you're leaving meeeee!" He whined, clinging close to the other's shirt, digging his fingers into the cloth desperately. "Don't you dare leave me! Not for that Austro-whimp!"

"Gil—I.. I have to… M-my boss…"

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Gilbert wailed and clung tighter. "You can't leave! I won't let you! I-i-i-f you go I'll… I'll disown you!" He threatened through a cracking voice.

Heinz blinked repeatedly, completely shocked. "Uh…Gilbert… I.. I am I not leaving until after Christm-"

"JUST GO!" The little one hissed and pushed himself away from the Bavarian, jumping to the floor and backing away. "LEAVE ME FOR HIM! See if I care!" He was crying profusely by then, tears streaming his cheeks.

"Bruder… I-"

"NEIN! Du bist mein Bruder NICHT!"

The words stung Heinz's heart, piercing like a poison-dipped dagger. He stared blankly for several moments before he slowly stood up. "…fine. Auf wiedersehen…. Herr Beilschmidt. I'll not be one upon our next meeting."

The albino hissed a curse and lunged forward, landing a kick against the taller nation's shin, causing the Bavarian to stumble backwards then retaliate by kicking back, hitting Teutonic Order's stomach. The albino groaned and fell to his rump with a thud, holding his arms across his midsection. He glared icily up at the Bavarian, and seethed. "Get.. .out of here…"

With clenched eyes and a hung head, Heinz turned around, walking away, his voice low and raspy as he whispered. "…..Merry Christmas, gilbert… Und a happy new year… du ficken Saupreiss."


	4. Christmas, 1431

Bavaria had grown quite comfortable living in the Austrian's home over the last few decades. He hadn't grown much, due to a calm, stable economy without much growth. The things in his state had stayed essentially the same over the years, anything gained went to Roderich. However, Heinz was not opposed to this. The two nations were best friends, and constantly made each other more comfortable. The food was good, and the whole house was constantly filled with beautiful music. How could anyone not be happy here?

"Heinrich." Roderich said over breakfast one morning.

"Jawohl?" Heinz replied calmly. "Why do you call me that?"

"It is your name, is it not?"

"Nein, it is not… My name is Heinz."

"I'll not have a territory of mine called 'Heinz.'"

"What's wrong with it..?"

"It's simply not a proper name."

"Oh…"

"So, fro mthis day forth, your name is Heinrich. Questions?"

"Nein."

"Sehr gut." Roderich gave a warm smile which Heinrich happily returned. No longer Heinz Beilschmidt, the German. He was Heinrich Holbein. The Austrian-Bavarian. And he was perfectly fine with this.

That night was December 23rd. The night before Christmas eve. Roderich went to bed early, as per usual, leaving Heinrich alone in the main room, lounging on the couch and watching as the fire slowly died away, as was one of his duties as an Austrian territory.

The Bavarian had nearly dozed off when a soft clink of metal hitting floor sounded, echoing lightly in the quiet Austrian night. Heinrich sat up immediately, eyes wide. He swiftly leapt off of the couch, hand resting on the hilt of a short sword. "Servus…?" He said quietly, not quite seeing very well in the dim light of the dying fire.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't my big Bruder…" A voice sounded from the corner near the window as a fully armoured albino slowly stepped out of the shadows into the dim, flickering light, eyes blazing with hunger. The Teuton's lips were curled into a deep smirk. "You haven't grown a bit… I have. Is that snobby aristocrat not feeding you right?" He growled, almost a full head taller than the Bavarian.

Heinrich stared at the other, eyes wide as he drew the short sword and took a defensive position. "G-Gilbert… What are you doing here? Go home."

"Aw, am I not you precious little Gilbo anymore?" He sneered, moving steadily closer, still not having drawn his own sword.

"Golotz mei. Go home, Gilbert. Bruder won't like-!" Heinrich was interrupted by a steeled foot slamming into his hand, knocking the sword to the ground and soliciting a sharp cry from the Bavarian.

"He's not your brother!"

"Get out of here!" He hissed before diving after his weapon.

But Gilbert was faster. He leapt at the Bavarian, tackling him to the floor. "Nein! I'm taking you home! Don't you want to spend Christmas with your family!?" He growled as he leaned back enough to grab Heinrich's arms, twist them back and tie them securely behind his back.

"I AM home!" He replied coldly, struggling against the rope as Gilbert jerked him to a standing position not at all gently.

"No you aren't!" He hissed, slapping Heinrich across the face. "I'm giving you another chance. You're coming home. You're going to be my brother again, and you have no choice in the matter. Come on." He swiftly punched the Bavarian's face, knocking him out, and slung the unconscious Heinrich over his shoulder and made off for his own home while Heinrich managed to mutter something along the lines of: "….good-bye, Bruder.."


	5. Christmas, 1568

War.

Blood.

Death.

Betrayal.

"You're going to attack him, Heinz."

"Heinrich. My name is Heinrich."

The correction was met with a slap to the Bavarian's face, by then a battered mess due to all of the times Gilbert had to slap the defiant nation. "You're going to attack Austria, and that is final."

Heinrich, who had stumbled to the ground merely dropped his violet gaze and nodded submissively. "Yes…. Bruder…." He said quietly, the words bitter on his tongue. "…I will attack Austria."

Gilbert began pouring over battle plans, to which Heinrich only half paid attention to. He was going to let his people do the fighting. He could never, himself, attack Roderich's military. He knew that his own still loved Austrians, and that they would be shown mercy if given the chance.

Within a few days, Prussia was leading the charge into Austria, with Spain, France, Bavaria and a few of the other German states in tow, all of them with a hungry, lustful glint in their eyes. Except Bavaria. Heinrich lagged in his marching, reluctant to go forth until Gilbert shouted. "Bayern!"

"Jawohl?"

"You know this place better than the rest of us. Scout ahead. See where the aristocrat is hiding."

Bavaria gave the albino a sideways glare before tapping his heels on his mount's side, which responded by charging ahead, leaving the others in the dust.

It took Heinrich maybe three hours to find where the Brunette was hiding, and not at all far away from the house he longed to call home again. He practically leapt off of the horse and flung himself towards the Austrian and wrapped him in a hug. "Roderich! Roderich, I am back!"

Roderich made an unmanly squeaking noise as he was suddenly hugged and pushed the other off, confused and not yet recognizing the other, for Heinrich had grown much taller, now almost an inch above the Austrian, no longer a head shorter. "Was ist-! Heinrich! You-!"

The two embraced once more before the Bavarian broke the hug and took on a somber expression. "Roderich… there… They are coming. Prussia, Fracne, Spain.. They are going to attack… and.. I…" He dropped his gaze. "I'm forced to be their ally… und… your enemy…."

Thje brunette listened for several moments, nodding slightly, losing himself to his thoughts for a moment. "….I see. Then you should probably get back to them… you are not my territory anymore, Gilbert captur-"

"NEIN! I will not. I refuse to go back to him. I am your family, and not his. I was, however, given an order…"

"To attack me."

"Jawohl…"

"He… never said what kind of attack, d-did he?"

"Nein."

"Then there is another option."


	6. Christmas, 1568 pt 2

At some point that afternoon, Bavaria stopped thinking of Austria as the nation. When he looked at the personification after their reunion, it was not through political or military eyes. He saw before him another man, and nothing else. At some point, possibly much longer before Heinrich began thinking like this, Roderich did too. They both looked at each other, not as nations, but a friends, brothers, family, no. This afternoon they were more than that.

Bavaria was ordered to attack Austria. Each personification had to respond to this order in some way. Prussia never told them how such an attack must be executed.

With a soft sigh, Heinrich had his arms around the Austrian once more. This time, however, the embrace was not brotherly. It was much closer, more personal, and much more intimate than that. Skillful fingers quickly made work of uniform buttons. Within moments the two men were shirtless, embracing with lips locked against lips.

Maybe the Bavarian was enjoying this too much. They were both laying on the ground half naked by then, with Roderich on his stomach and Heinrich draped across his back. Heinrich's legs were settled comfortably between the others, with not a single piece of cloth between them, only the Bavarian's long tailed military jacket shielding the two from the harsh cold air of Austrian winter.

Maybe it was Roderich's enjoyment. There had been minimal time or desire for prepatory action. Heinrich had to simply move slowly and ignore the pained, low groaning of the brunette beneath him as he pressed his mouth hungrily against the Austrian's neck, biting and sucking gently at first, but more hungrily, more passionately as their actions continued.

Maybe it was the mere act itself. "A-ah… Heinr-" He gasped, his head pressed back against the Bavarian's neck, panting and moaning like a dog. The blond let forth a low, rumbling groan of pleasure as he latched his lips tightly onto the crook of Roderich's neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark as he did so.

Maybe it was because it was his big brother. With _him._ Gilbert is not a man to cross, not wisely. The dark red eyes narrowed to slits as a gloved hand ripped the military jacket from the two lovers with hardly any heed to the noise they were making. "Get back in the ranks-!" He stopped as a pair of amethyst eyes turned up from the man on bottom, the top still too busy with his ministrations to even have noticed that their little piece of privacy was gone. Gilbert just stared in shock for several minutes, with Roderich's terrified gaze meeting his.

The Prussian finally managed to break his entraced starign contest to kick Heinrich in the face, who fell backwards into the snow. Gilbert cast him a dark, poisonious glare and threw the jacket at him, hissing a low '_Cover yourself._'

Gilbert then turned his glare back onto Roderich, reaching down to grab the bare skinned Austrian but the neck and pick him up none-too-gently. "Well… it seems the aristocrat has already been defeated." With a deep smirk he grabbed the brunette's member firmly with his free, gloved hand, soliciting a choked cry of pain and weak flailing of limbs. "Your vital regions… are mine." He gave them another tight squeeze, making Roderich whimper in pain.

Heinrich leapt to his feet, having finally regained his wits about him and threw a hard punch which landed squarely on the Prussian's jaw. The Bavarian wasn't quite as strong as Gilbert, and if he'd given the other time to prepare, maybe it wouldn't have even made a difference. But, in any case, the albino was caught off guard, dropping the Austrian and stumbled backwards, having to hold his hands over his jaw in an attempt to stifle the throbbing pain emitting from the point of contact.

"You… your chance is spent." Gilbert growled, spitting at the Bavarian's face. Heinrich merely blinked, breathing deep and hard after the actions with Roderich, paired with snapping enough to punch the albino in the face—an action he'd been waiting years for a chance to do, anyways—as a mixture of Prussian saliva and blood splattered his face.

"Do what you want to Schleissen. The rest of Austria is mine." He hissed, the tone of his voice somehow deep and determined enough to be completely dominant despite the humiliation of being unclothed before the Prussian. "Go."


End file.
